If It Kills Me
by DCFanatic4life
Summary: Chris would love a chance with Stephanie, but the question remains, will he ever get his shot?


**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or real people in this story, the characters belong to WWE and the real people own themselves.

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A/N: So I was talking with Glamagirl and we were talking about this song, "If It Kills Me" by Jason Mraz (who has tons of awesome music) and I decided to try my hand at writing something based on the song and this is what came out after much trying. I'm still not entirely pleased by it, but I guess I'll see what people think. Be brutal if you want. :)

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You can look, but you can never touch.

And that's what kills you really, that you can see her and be around her, but touching her, you can never have that. Oh sure, you can touch her in the literal sense. Sometimes, when you're sitting with her, when she's looking over something, her hair falls in her face a little bit. She's never been one to push it out of the way and you wonder if it bugs her. It always used to bug you when you had long hair and it fell in your face. You can remember blowing on it and blowing on it and hoping that it would blow back onto your head so you could see properly, but she's far too busy for that. She doesn't have time to push the hair out of her face so she deals with it.

When you're there, though, you don't want her to have to deal with it, so you reach your hand out and tuck her hair behind her ear, sliding your fingers all the way around, your rough hands soothed by the softness of her hair. You don't linger too long, that would be strange, but you linger just enough to pretend like she's yours, if only for those few moments when you tenderly reach out. You wonder if _he_ does that for her or if _he _doesn't care because he's got things to do. When you're around her, you suddenly have nothing left to do except be around her.

Therein lies your problem. You don't want to separate your life into the pre-Stephanie and post-Stephanie but it's how your life has turned out, hasn't it? You think to the time before you knew her and it's almost like you weren't really living. It must feel that way when you fall in love. It must feel like every moment before _the_ moment is somehow smaller and insignificant. You don't want to separate your life like that because before her was good, it was, you had fun, you traveled, you wrestled, you were fine, you did well for yourself.

And then you met her and then that moment, you look back now, the past had become smaller, yes, so much smaller. You think back now and you wonder about the events in the past and how it would've been different if she'd been there. So you've already separated your life into those two parts and yet, you know you'll never have her, so what becomes the third part, the part of your life that you'll inevitably have to spend without her by your side. Does that part become post-living? Does it become another half-life, where you watch and observe and never, ever get to touch.

You think it's strange watching a life you want to be yours. You see her with him, with Paul (the name tastes like burning, your tongue sticking dryly to the roof of your mouth and your throat contracting with sure-fire venom) and you see something that should be yours and you say should because you like to believe there were opportunities there, somewhere there and you just missed them because they flashed like diamonds in your eyes, temporarily blinding you and then when you look, search out, the moment is gone.

She doesn't flit between man to man, she never has. You've learned and studied like she's a beautiful butterfly under glass and in a lot of ways, she is. She flutters and flies, but she's tethered as well where you would let her soar. Yet, you're stuck as the friend, always the bridesmaid, never the bride. She sticks with her guy, you think too long, far too long, but she sticks, she sticks and you have tried to unstick her, but she never budges so you sit there and push the hair out of her face and you're sure _he_ never does that, you're sure that it's your thing, your special thing with her.

You think that it should be you, that you should be the man, the only man, in your life. You aren't though and yet you've been there from the very start. You met her and you became fast friends because, though you have little in common, you click. You know she sees that at least, but to her, that click is friendship and to you, that click is everything you want and nothing you can have. You want to have, you want to grab and claim and you are stunted by what cannot be because she doesn't know that you want more, that you've always wanted more.

Or maybe she does know and her silence is all the answer you really need to know. You've been known to wear your heart on your sleeve and how could she not see it. Haven't you made it blatant? And if you have and she's said nothing, what does that say? She doesn't want you? She'll never want you? That you'll only ever be friends? You want none of those and possibly that's all you're ever going to get so her silence may be a blessing if her words are going to cut and sliver you up into shards.

This isn't healthy for you though, you know it. You can't pine for someone. It's silly to pine, you should never pine. Years can go by and you're sitting there waiting and maybe something just as good comes along. There is a saying though, one that sticks in your mind and keeps propelling you forward into this doomed unrequited love. "The biggest enemy of great is good." You think about that quote and you apply it to yourself. If you settle for good instead of great, you will never be happy and you don't want to settle for good, you want to aim for great.

That's why you sit there and tuck her hair behind her ears or listen as she complains about Paul for the millionth time while you devise ways in which you would've avoided whatever they were arguing about. It's why you've taken care of her while she's sick or accompanied her to her grandmother's funeral. It's why you hold her hand right before she goes out on stage because even to this day, she gets nervous. You love her all the more for that, but every time you think your love has reached the highest point it can get, you end up finding another little treasure and it climbs more.

You don't want to settle for good.

Yet, your voice doesn't know this, has ignored this advice because whenever you open your mouth to speak, the wrong words come out, the safe words come out. You don't want to risk it all because if you risk and she gives you those cutting words, you've lost it all. If you'd had nothing to lose, then maybe, maybe you'd speak up, but you have everything to lose and you'd rather sit next to her and get to touch her occasionally than have nothing and watch her from afar as she laughs at something you didn't say or smiles at someone that's not you.

And then one day she tells you that it's over between her and Paul and there's that opportunity, there's the window you've been waiting for and you beg your tongue not to forget this time, not to clam up and spit out the wrong words, but when you open your mouth, all that comes out is sympathy and you hate yourself for it. You hate yourself for the inability to move past this, whether it's with her or without her, you just hate yourself. You've tried and failed and failed and how can she not see that you are in love with her?

If you'd just said it to begin with, if you'd just spoken up that moment, "Stephanie, I love you." You'd be with her, maybe...sort of...you could be...would she have...? You don't know, but it would be known instead of you stumbling over words you don't mean. Why do you say stupid things you don't mean? The crowd sees your persona. "Hey, it's Chris Jericho, he always says what he feels!" Yeah, right, if that were true, you would be with her and not on the outskirts like a fool. You're a fool, Chris Irvine, a damn fool.

"Chris," she says to you and she smiles and you love when she smiles because there's a progression to it. It starts with the corners of her mouth as they rise just a tiny bit. Then her lips start to part and then teeth, and then last, lastly her eyes, the smile projects up to her eyes and they, in turn, start to gleam in a way and you smile back because you can't help it and you wonder if she notices how you light up when you smile.

"Hey," you say to her, wanting more, but hey will have to do for now.

"What's up?"

How can she make your stomach flutter with almost meaningless words? "I'm okay, you?"

"Been better," she shrugs and sits next to you and damn it, is that her shampoo you can smell. Oh God, you've become creepy stalker guy, haven't you? Maybe that's why she keeps you at a distance, because you're creepy to her, but then she wouldn't be laying her head on your shoulder right now, would she? Good, you've gone undetected for another few minutes.

"What's wrong?" You know what's wrong, she's going to tell you that she's heartbroken over her break-up, she misses Paul, you know because you've been over this with other guys and you know the drill. You've memorized the drill. You want to tell her that the drill would not be necessary with you because you would do everything in your power to make things so right between the two of you that she will never be heartbroken again.

But then she surprises you, "Have you ever wanted to be with someone who didn't want to be with you?"

You almost think that she knows and she's about to let you down and you're going to crumble into dust from the sheer embarrassment of her words. But you power through because maybe it _will_ kill you, but you have to let her know because the window is probably closing again and you don't want it to close. "Yeah, I have. You going through that right now."

"Yeah," she tells you and you want her to ask the question you want her to ask, just ask it, Stephanie, you think and pray and hope and then, like she knew, like some divine being intervened, she asks it, "Are you going through it right now?"

You need to be truthful, it'll be alright, either way, you'll be alright, you will just start a new phase, that phase you dreaded, but you'll be satisfied that you did at least give it one shining try. What will this phase be though? Post-everything Stephanie? You don't know, but you answer, "Yeah, I am."

She nods against your shoulder and her hair brushes against your arm and you're looking down at her head and then you dare to lean your head on hers because you're both in the same predicament except your predicament is with her and hers is with...well, some guy that's not you and who you will have to see her fawn over and pretend unless you just come out with it, just say it, you! You want to, you know you do and you should because at some point in time, Chris Irvine, you are going to have to risk it all!

"Hey, Steph," you start, your tongue's okay so far, it's cooperating.

"Yeah?" she asks, not moving her head and you dare to be bold and you take her hand softly in hers so she can't interpret it just yet. She'll just think you're holding hands for support. You've done that before. You've held it in your own protectively. You give it a little squeeze and then you decide now is the right moment. Right here, this is where it all changes.

"It's you," you say and your mouth, it worked!

"What's me?" she asks and she doesn't get it and you can still get out now if you want to, but you've come too far and things are going too well for you right now so you have to go just a bit further.

"You, the person, the...liking thing, it's you."

"Me?" she asks and she's not as surprised or angry as you thought she would be, which you can use as a good sign if you want to. She's not pulling away and she's not slapping you and she's not tearing you down brick by brick. She's still just sitting there and you wish she'd say more to give you some indication, even if it's the dreaded words of friendship.

"Yeah, you, I've...for a while now...actually, a long while."

"Oh," she says and she nods and you start to pull away a little, but her grip turns firmer and its holding onto your hand pretty tightly. "Well, that's convenient."

"What's convenient?" you ask, now you're the dumb one.

"I was talking about you."

"You were?"

"Yeah," she tells you and well, you don't have much to say right now except you really want to kiss her and if she does like you, that means she wants you to kiss her so you lean forward tentatively, but you have gained everything and so has she and she's pulling you in and you're giving her your heart right then and there and you know something as her lips press into yours.

She's giving you her heart too.


End file.
